I'll miss the rains down in Africa

I awoke from a mid-afternoon slumber feeling it was time to attempt some kind of callisthenic.  I’d had a big lunch at a local Indian joint, and I needed to burn off a few kilojoules.  One of my favorite runs goes down on the road which passes along the southern border of Nairobi National Park.  Eventually if you take this route you arrive at Rolf’s place, a critically acclaimed German restaurant built on the side of Leopard Cliffs.  I quickly threw on my running gear and headed outside, knowing that it’s best to get a run in before it turns dark, especially on that road where the rumors of simba passing by after dark abound.  As I stepped outside I noticed large dark clouds forming to the Northwest and to the Northeast.  Normally the clouds come from due west here in Kenya, so I thought I may be able to just miss the normal afternoon deluge which is ever so common during the rainy season.  I exited campus through our main gate and crossed the main road to begin my run on the ever familiar John P. Marangu road.  This is a dirt road that is closed to through traffic, save for the boda boda’s who ferry passengers between a local junction and a small town on the other side of ANU.  After about ¾ of a mile, this road T’s into Maasai Lodge Road.  From here you take a right and are on the road which runs along the Southern side of the park.  As I ran along, the clouds were ever so ominous as they gathered over Nairobi.  They were pregnant with a fierce downpour that makes one miss Africa in incredible ways when away from it.  Over my right shoulder the clouds were beginning to get bigger as well.  But, it still looked like I could go and come back and make my way along the edge of the storm.  This is one of my favorite runs in the world, for you always have a shot of seeing some kind of an animal right along with you.  I gazed over Nairobi National Park in search of some kind of wildlife.  The birds of the African plains chirped as the light was slowly fading from the sky.  Almost everyone was going the opposite direction as me.  It was home time, and they were all trying to get home before the rains.  I reached the iconic Rolf’s place in good time.  The Maasai guard was at his usual post by their gate.  I greeted him in his language, and he greeted me back with a chuckle.  I think his chuckle was because he knew I was about to get stuck in a massive storm, yet I tried to think otherwise.  I turned around and started the run home.  Then I felt the first drop fall from the sky.  Still, I thought it was just the edge of the storm.  Soon more drops gathered with their fallen comrade, and I began to realize it was going to pour.  What had happened was all of the clouds which I had seen around me were converging over my head, and a downpour began.  At first the rain was fierce, hitting my skin with the strength of a small pebble.  Then the rain turned softer, yet still heavy.  Small puddles were forming on my shoulders, my running clothes and shoes now completely soaked.  I gazed up at the heavens, in awe of the beauty of such storms.  I’m quite sure everyone I came across on the last two miles of my run thought I was a crazy man.  They were all decked out in their raincoats, Welly’s, umbrellas, and the like.  Whilst I arrived back at my flat soaked, I was thankful to experience a run in the rains that I’ve come to love so dearly.  In approximately 50 days time I will once again be singing along with Toto of how I miss them as I fly out of the city of my birth with my parents on our way back to the United States.